


Denial

by Yobotica



Series: It's not the destination, it's the journey [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yobotica/pseuds/Yobotica
Summary: Written for the Day 6 prompt of the Assassin's Creed Fandom Events 2018.Prompt: First Civilization/Survival of the FittestThe third work in a series dedicated to Desmond.Shaun muses on Desmond, and what he was made of.





	Denial

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Caisar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caisar), without whom these would all be so much worse.

He never got to apologize. 

Somehow, everything had gone to shit, and after a burial with no marker and no service, a hasty flight to the states, Desmond was now in a coma, and William... 

William wasn't exactly the father Shaun had thought he'd be. 

Shaun had been an eager recruit even before Rebecca had given him any details at all, but by the time William showed up to size him up and formally offer the invitation or whatever, there was no need for empathy or softness. No pitch of the Brotherhood being a family. 

But Shaun had been there when William approached Clay. William had been so gentle, so paternal, like he'd tried to for Shaun, only Clay had actually needed that. 

And when he'd asked Clay to take on the assignment that had eventually led to his death, there had been genuine regret there, real pride in the Assassin Clay had become. 

He'd spoken of his son often. There was sorrow there, pain. William had never stopped looking for Desmond, had followed every lead he could. Shaun had even helped. 

So when he met Desmond, well. He was disdainful of an Assassin who'd run away from a father like that. A father who cared deeply, who wanted only the best for his son, who trained him so hard only so he could protect himself, and change the world for the better. A father who never gave up, not for the Brotherhood, but because he missed his son. 

Only, now that William had Desmond back, he wasn't anything like Shaun had thought he'd be. And Desmond hadn't been the son that Shaun had taken him for. 

William had taken over Desmond's care with a businesslike tone, not a fatherly one - but well, the circumstances had certainly been less than ideal. 

Only, Bill had nothing but sharp words for Desmond when he wasn't actively working. Sure, he was working at Desmond's bedside, but they basically all were, since checking him into a hospital was a surefire way to get Desmond back into Abstergo's custody, and all of _them_ killed. 

He would blame Desmond for so many things, often under his breath, and not once had Shaun seen a trace of that gentleness Bill had shown Clay, had tried to show him. 

It was... It was disappointing is what it was.There was one time that Bill had mentioned he'd been proud of Desmond for not being found yet, but not once had he said so to Desmond now that they were reunited. There was only scorn for getting caught over a motorcycle, of all things. 

Shaun had worked with Bill for years. He knew Bill loved his son. He knew Bill's sorrow, his pride, had been genuine. 

Yet where was it now? 

Desmond running away made a lot more sense. Not that Desmond had opened up about it at all, but Shaun had mentioned it exactly once sometime, in the beginning, and Desmond had sneered at him (which had honestly surprised him, given how affable Desmond had been about his double kidnappings and the machines he was chained to). He'd said something about Shaun not knowing anything, and well, _that_ was patently false, and also Shaun hadn't really cared what Desmond had had to say anyway; he'd already made up his mind. 

He'd been wrong then, and he was constantly learning exactly how wrong even now. 

And yet, Bill's pride wasn't misplaced. Desmond had, for almost a decade, starting as a teen, outwitted not only Abstergo, but the Brotherhood. 

They had never had so much as a hint of him, and they'd looked all over. But the one time they had been investigating New York, it wasn't the right area at all. In truth, the lead had been flimsy as they came, but Bill followed every one, even if not always personally. 

And, unlike Shaun had originally believed, Desmond _had_ tried to escape Abstergo. He likely wouldn't have made it without Lucy's help, but honestly? _He might have done._

They might not ever know how close he came, but the reason Shaun believed he could have is everything that came after. 

The thing is, Desmond was more than fit for duty as an Assassin. Whatever he'd been doing after he'd run away had included keeping up with his fitness regimen alongside his career as a bartender. 

The Bleeding Effect was great for giving the brain the instructions, but it wouldn't shape the body for the work it was learning; but Desmond had performed brilliantly from the word go. Climbing, running, fighting - Shaun had studied him, had studied his ancestors.

The most infuriating thing was that Desmond truly was brilliant in ways that Shaun hadn't wanted to acknowledge. The skills he learned were mostly physical, but Desmond was adaptable in a way that Shaun knew he himself was not, a way that he absolutely refused to envy. 

The Animus could give him the ability to climb, it couldn't teach him to chart a path. That was all Desmond. The animus gave him the ability to fight with men who were skilled in brawls, but Desmond had quickly started taking Rebecca, Lucy and him down on the regular, and they all used different styles of fighting. 

William was out for the moment, and Rebecca was sleeping, leaving Shaun alone with Desmond, who still showed no activity of any kind. 

He didn't deserve this. Shaun couldn't understand Juno's motivations, because Desmond wasn't going to save the world or whatever from his coma. 

But, of all of them, Shaun was starting to realise, Desmond was the only one who could do this. Bill often talked about how angry he was Desmond was in the coma after all the work they'd done to get him up to speed. 

Desmond, of course, said nothing. 

The thing was, Shaun could kind of understand what Bill was so angry about, even if he couldn't understand that it was all the man seemed to have for Desmond, now that he was here.

There was more to being an Assassin than just the ability to kill, or climb, or fight. They needed empathy, mercy. And Desmond, he had all that.

Desmond had the potential to be better than anyone in this hotel; better than Shaun and certainly, Shaun was realising, better than his father. He could be the best of them, anywhere.

But weren't the Assassins about choice, freedom? William was a passionate advocate for that - except, it seems, for his son. And Desmond hadn't wanted this.

Shaun looked over to Desmond again and let out a sigh. They couldn't see what was happening in the Animus, but aside from breathing, there was hardly a sign Desmond was alive, much less able to wake from this. 

"You need to," he began aloud, then paused, because he hasn't really talked to Desmond like this since he was placed in the Animus. It didn't feel right, but he needed to say it. "You need to wake up. I have something important to tell you. But, I need you to actually hear it. So stop... stop laying about, and... and wake up soon." 

He had an apology to make, and the sooner he could make it, the better.


End file.
